


Human Nature

by Ninkasa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-14
Updated: 2012-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 03:44:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninkasa/pseuds/Ninkasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meg helps Cas deal with the loss of his grace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human Nature

He said that of all the needs and desires that had crept up on him since becoming human, he seemed to find his desire for her to be the least troubling.

As she'd been about thirty seconds from falling asleep herself at the time, she was more than a bit put out by this statement.

"Still working on that brain-mouth filter, are we?"

Castiel frowned at her and winced as she purposely repositioned herself, jabbing her elbow hard into his side as she laid down against him.

"I didn't mean--"

Meg rolled her eyes. "Yes, you did. You meant exactly what you just said."

She flopped back down on his arm that she'd been laying against -- honestly, harder than she needed to.

She shut her eyes and then opened them just as quickly. Of course he meant everything he'd said.

He meant exactly what he'd just said.

She sat up again.

"You've got it all wrong, Clarence. Sex is the thing human beings hide and are ashamed of. Food, sleep -- hell, even the need to fight, those are the normal instincts no one has a problem with. Well. . .much of a problem with."

Actually, his need to sleep seemed to be the one he was having the hardest time with.

Castiel frowned at this. "Dean doesn't have difficulties with any of those things." He hesitated. "He doesn't seem to need sleep very much."

Oh, for the love of Hell.

"Deano isn't exactly human."

He frowned at this and she shrugged the shoulder that wasn't pushed up against his. "Well, he is. But he isn't normal. Don't use the Winchesters as the model for what's normal for humans."

Honestly, he should be talking to Anna about these things. She'd been human, she even remembered what it was like.

Meg's humanity had been forgotten long ago. Most of what she knew came from observations she'd made since leaving the Pit.

Not for the first time, she wondered at the insanity of her current situation. A demon lying in bed with an angel turned human trying to explain what was normal for humans.

Something had gone horribly wrong in her existence.

She looked up at him surreptitiously through her eyelashes.

It was all his fault anyway. He'd planted the doubt in her mind, which had led her to Crowley. And then Crowley had thrown in his lot with the Winchesters. 

Which had gotten them wrapped up with Anna and Gabe and at least Clarence was no longer the only angel on board the No Apocalypse Express anymore. 

Well. . .at least they still had angels on board at all.

Her eyes slid closed, then opened just as quickly. "Or."

He stopped twining a lock of her hair around his finger. "Or what?"

Meg frowned and tugged her hair from his hand. He started getting grabby when he was maudlin or sedate. "Or," she said. "It could be the reason you have no problem sleeping with me now you've lost your mojo because you didn't have a problem with it when you did have it."

It wasn't as if sex was anything new. Unlike the sleeping and the eating.

Honestly, the only thing that had changed was his acceptance of it. It was as if he was no longer angry with himself for wanting her, like he had when he'd still had his grace.

Maybe he just thought he'd fallen far enough that sex with a demon was the least of his worries.

She'd meant for the statement to be a sort of jab to get an adverse reaction. But all he said was, "It could be the familiarity of the situation."

Just like it was familiar to have those little heart to hearts with Dean in the parking lot of these cheap ass motels. Familiar to help Sam with whatever "research" needed to be done -- honestly, Meg thought they were looking at porn most of the time. Or familiar to sweep in at the eleventh hour to save whichever of them had gotten themselves into a mess they couldn't get out of.

He still took that "guardian angel" shit seriously.

They'd been in Albuquerque looking into a lead when one morning he'd come into the room to say they needed to go to Sonoma. Which was where Sam and Dean had been headed.

She'd thought maybe he'd gotten some news from Anna or Gabe. Or that Crowley or Bobby had called and they were just the closest to where the boys had gone. There was too much to do all over right now.

But when they'd busted the boys out of the witch's holding cell and gotten them back to Bobby's, Sam had asked how he'd known they needed help.

Clarence had laid Dean carefully down onto the floor -- he'd taken the brunt of the attack of the witch and was somewhat woozy -- and then frowned at Sam.

"If I haven't heard from one of you in at least three days, I assume there's trouble."

The general consensus seemed to be that what most people -- mainly Sam and Bobby -- had assumed was the angel-ness was actually just -- as Anna had put it -- "Cas being Cas".

The point was that in outward appearances, nothing had really changed. 

Whatever was going on inside, he wasn't sharing with her. Maybe with Anna, possibly Gabriel or Sam. She'd say definitely with Dean.

That was the thing she'd learned not to mess with. There was a bond -- apparently forged in hellfire -- between the two that couldn't really be broken. And lest you want to see just how far that bond went, try to do something to harm the other one.

It wasn't as. . .extreme. . .as the bond between the brothers. That was just weird sometimes. But it was there. You didn't rebel against Heaven for just anyone and you didn't go after an archangel because your friend asked you to.

She didn't know much else about the situation, but she knew not to push with Castiel where Dean Winchester was concerned. His temper was very short and while -- yes -- it had been when he still had his juice, it was closer to the surface now and he wasn't always concerned with the outcome of it.

He couldn't gank her the way he used to, but he still had the knife -- Dean insisted he keep it when she was around -- and he knew how to use it.

Whatever the Hell else was going on between the two of them -- and sometimes it wasn't only sex, because if it was, he wouldn't seek her out when he suddenly wanted to talk to someone. And she wouldn't let him. Nor would she still be laying in this damned motel room.

And now she was wide awake.

And hungry.

And she was pretty sure this was his fault as well.

She nudged his shoulder with her own. "Clarence."

He didn't answer. She frowned, then slid her hand beneath his side of the sheet and pinched.

He jerked awake.

Meg grinned. "Oh, good. You're awake."

He gave her that squinty look that seemed to say the world was making everything too difficult.

That hadn't changed either.

"Is there a reason you just assaulted me?"

She leered at him. "Oh, I've assaulted you plenty of times." 

He rolled his eyes. Or he would have, if he made a habit of it.

"I want pancakes."

She tossed back the sheets and snatched her jeans off the floor.

She frowned when he was still lying there watching her.

"Get dressed. Let's go."


End file.
